


Masterpiece

by TheCarmineWanker



Category: Winx Club
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:08:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22809160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCarmineWanker/pseuds/TheCarmineWanker
Summary: He is an artist and she is his masterpiece.
Relationships: Flora/Helia (Winx Club)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 67





	Masterpiece

Flora loved the conservatory in their home more than most places she had been to. Naturally, she had plants all over the house, but this was the only room that was wholly and completely dedicated to them. Most of the room was organic matter but in the center there was an open area with a fountain and a white whicker chaise. That chaise, specifically, was her favorite place in the entire universe for a few reasons.

Sometimes she would just sit there and watch Helia draw the surrounding plants, reveling in their shared silence. Other times, she would pose for him as he drew her for hours, slaving over the tiniest of details. Her absolute favorite, though, was what he was doing currently- tying her up on that beloved chaise of hers.

Shibari is truly an art form, so it made perfect sense that Helia had taken to it so naturally and with such dedication, especially since he already had plenty of experience with ropes. He was meticulous in his work, not at all concerned about how much time he took to tie her perfectly, with intricate knots and twists. He had once told her that the way he tied her depended on varying factors that lended themselves to inspiration, like the quality of the light and the way it shone on her skin and hair or the particular expression in her eyes. Like a true artist, things like these that seemed completely unrelated to anything having to do with rope made sense to him and guided him in this form of creative expression.

Just like with his drawing, she loved watching him tie her. If not for the fact that she always knew what wonderful things would follow once he finished, she would want nothing more than to lie there, watching him tie her like that forever. The deliberate, careful movement of his hands, the combination of concentration and joy in his eyes, his pupils somewhat dilated, the way he knew her body so well that he could tie every knot in the exact right place and perfectly tight- not suffocating, not too loose. Sometimes, when he’d finished tying her, instead of fucking her, he would retrieve his art materials and draw or paint her first. She had asked him about it once and he’d said that, upon completion, sometimes he would step back and be so struck by the stunning image before him, ‘a true masterpiece’, as he had put it, that he absolutely had to at least try to replicate it on paper. Flora didn’t mind in the slightest, she loved being both muse and canvas for him and she always loved, above all else, how he saw her as art.

At the moment, he was working on the intricate body harness he was tying on her. She watched his fingers dance and relished in the feeling of the rope moving across her skin and the occasional brush of his fingers as he worked. Soon enough, he finished, looking up, finally, to meet her eyes with his piercing gaze. She smiled, knowing what would happen next. Each time, it was, in many ways, the same and yet, each time they did this, something would be a bit different.

He started by trailing kisses all over her skin, everywhere except where she most wanted them. Throughout all of it, he stubbornly avoided her mouth and the area between her thighs that was growing rather damp. He left trails of bruises all over her jaw, her neck, her chest, and her thighs, he played with her nipples and pulled her hair just as she liked, but he still wouldn’t give her the relief she so desperately needed. Then, just when she thought she couldn’t take any more of his teasing, his lips were on her entrance and his tongue was inside of her, drinking her in and making her moan.

It didn’t take much after that and it wasn’t much longer before she unraveled, in his hands, in his mouth. Once they’d caught their breath, he moved as though to continue in a different way, she knew it to be her turn to return the favor, but then, suddenly, he froze, eyes wide, his breath caught in his throat. Before she could ask, he was up, bolting out of the room. In barely a minute, he was back, setting up an easel with a canvas, pencils, paint, and brushes. Without saying a word, he began sketching her and she smiled softly, knowing this would be how she’d be spending the rest of the day and, frankly, there was nowhere else she’d rather be.


End file.
